A Study of the Heart
by Zacha
Summary: * Post Reichenbach spoilers. Several months post Reichenbach, this story explores the last conversation Irene and Sherlock had . Minds are challenged, hearts are studied and revealed
1. Chapter 1 h

Sherlock story

**A Study of the Heart**

Authors note: This is my second fan fiction so, please review and comment.

I have written to give readers **two** chose:

This can be read as a complete onetime stand-alone.

Alternatively, this can be read as an addition to **Deleted Memories** by Zacha; the first story that I have written. If read as a part of Deleted memories, the timeline takes place after the introduction but before chapter one.

*Spoilers* Post Reichenbach, John is not yet aware that Sherlock is alive

Thanks everyone for reading and a special thanks to everyone who comments, reviews and make a favorite.

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><p><em>Just outside<em> _Saint Petersburg, Russia_

The woman's flat was elegant but small by her standards. The sitting room contained marbled ivory floors contrasted by dark wooden walls. Crystal vases with yellow and white tulips were scattered around the room.

The Roman columns reached upwards from the floor to touch the ceiling. A cool breeze blew the sheer curtains that danced in the wind.

The balcony offered a magnificent view, especially at night when the lights of the distant city were seen. She preferred Saint Petersburg to Moscow; it really was a beautiful city.

She considered this room an extension of her.

The woman poured him a drink and sat in the striped ivory plush chair by the fire. She was clothed in a structured, dark blue designer dress with no sleeve.

She studies him, by all accounts he appeared lost in thought but she knew that that beautiful mind of his observed everything; taking in the slightest detail. Now, whether he deemed it noteworthy enough to remember was another matter.

Sherlock's side was turned slightly toward her. One elbow was on the fireplace, the opposite hand held a glass of wine. His hair was black again the sides and back still short, but growing; the front was cut but still a slightly longer length. He has allowed it to grow again resulting in some waves returning.

She was glad he was rid of his red hair. She would never tell him, but she preferred him this way. But, then, she did not need to.


	2. Chapter 2 h

**Study of the Heart, Chapter two**

*Spoilers* Post Reichenbach, John is not yet aware that Sherlock is alive.

Thanks everyone for reading and a special thanks to everyone who comments, reviews and make a favorite.

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><p>Sherlock put down his glass after a few sips. He was sporting a slight bruise on his side that extended up his shoulder. It was something new to add to his collection. She frowned and took another sip of Brandy she could not tolerate Vodka. She looked away toward the fireplace. He had arrived from Vienna. She was there briefly, long enough to help, then returned here. He had been furious, thinking that it was unsafe for her to be in Vienna physically; at least this time.<p>

He saved her life, helped her to disappear and assisted her several times over the last year. He had an uncanny ability to sense when she needed him. The man was loyal to a fault. She could not help but return the favor. It was not gratitude. Gratitude was not in her nature, it was something else. It was something that she would not admit to. It was something that she could not admit to completely. Therefore, here he was sulking, even though he would deny such an emotion. Of course, she had gone to Vienna. She had not listened.

She knew he could be reckless when alone. At times, he needed someone to pull him back. That was her job now. She was no John, but she would have to do, she thought grimly.

Irene Adler had thought he would have gone back to England weeks earlier, having finally neutralized Aleksey Ivanov. He was no longer a threat to John. However, he had surprised her by going after Ayyad.

Since Moriarty's death, Ayyad had become one of the most dangerous men alive. The problem was, no one had been looking for him because everyone thought he was dead. Sherlock knew better and so did she.

Irene knew Moriarty's inner circle. She was part of it at one time. Now, she fought within the shadows with Sherlock to bring it down. The bombing of Air France flight 1270 had occurred only three weeks earlier. Irene knew Sherlock carried the guilt of it; needlessly, she thought. He had anonymously alerted the appropriate officials of the threat. They had not responded quickly or efficiently.

They had done their part. Unlike Sherlock, she held no remorse. She frowned, subconsciously shrugging to herself.

She took another sip as she rubbed the outside of the crystal with her thumb. The fireplace can be somewhat hypnotic, she thought as orange, and red shimmers from the fire danced across her face.

Since going after Moriarty's kingdom, Sherlock had always been careful to stay in the shadows, but this time there was physical contact. She and Sherlock were allies. She knew her place and purpose. Irene would provide information, sometime significant, occasionally bits and pieces. Sherlock's brilliant mind had the ability to piece together that information and see all patterns, threats, and weakness.

Sherlock then manipulated the information for his 'own purposes'. These purposes were to provide vital information and disclose various illicit activities, to key governmental and law enforcement agencies. These agencies were abuzz with speculation, wondering where the information was coming from. Even Mycroft, Sherlock's own brother was being fed information on a regular base. Mycroft did not disappoint but used the information to crush, illegal activities and threats.

Irene sighed so softly it was scarcely audible, closer to a thought than a sound. She turned her face toward the balcony facing the lights of the city, yet unseeing, loss in thoughts. Her unease was building. On the side table sat the abandoned crystal cup, still half-full of the soothing liquid.

There were only two men that intimidated Irene Adler. Of course, she would never admit to, or disclose such weaknesses. Apart from Moriarty, only Mycroft sent chills up her spine. The man was not to be played with.

Of course, Mycroft did not know the source of that information. Sherlock always found that fact particularly amusing.

Sherlock's second goal was to plant doubt. Several of Moriarty's generals were in a private war, bidding for total control of the remaining branches. A few untraceable texts, a few leaked conversations containing confidential bits of information; and numerous unlawful people were being killed and assassinated. Moriarty's fractions were exterminating each other.

None of the factions could find the leak. No one could determine who the true enemy was. Because, no one had any idea that Sherlock discreetly manipulated events with the purpose of destroying the last threat of Moriarty's web. In the end, Moriarty's kingdom did not crumble but had torn itself apart from within. The plan was being executed flawlessly, until Vienna.

In Vienna, it almost turned bad, very bad. Irene picked back up the Brandy and took another sip, before abandoning it again. She trembled slightly, trying to hold in the anger.

What would have happened to him if she did not go? Sherlock was pushing himself physically beyond even his limit. Did the man not know he was mortal? He infuriated her sometimes.

Sherlock, despite his claim that he believed that sentiment was a chemical defect; had it in measure. It was just carefully covered, hidden, controlled, and denied. She should know she was the same.

Emotions such as anger, love, and passion ran deeply in Sherlock. On Sherlock, emotions shifted like flickers of a candle flame, they danced across his face surrounded by shadows. However, they were extinguished when his mask slipped back in place.


	3. Chapter 3 h

**Study of the Heart, Chapter three**

*Spoilers* Post Reichenbach, John is not yet aware that Sherlock is alive .

Thanks everyone for reading and a special thanks to everyone who comments, reviews and make a favorite

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><p>"You're very quiet." She almost jumped out of her skin; when had he started watching her?<p>

"Since when does quiet bother you?" she was still slightly shaken but tried to steady her voice, she would play the game. She repositioned herself in the chair leaning back appearing to look nonplussed.

"Wrong kind of quiet," Sherlock said as he slowly advances on her, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed hard and felt the telltale slight flutter inside. Her pulse quicken faintly.

"Oh do explain," She said sounding uninterested as she uncrossed her legs and laid both arms relaxed; fingers spread elegantly on the armrest of her chair. At least she hoped she looked relaxed.

He wrinkled his brow and stopped moving when he came within a yard. A slight smirk drew one corner of his mouth up accentuating his lips. Her eyes left from his eyes for a minute as she stared at his lips; those full, kissable, luscious lips.

She mentally shook herself and looked back in his eyes. His smirk became wider. He looked smug; but there was something else there. This caused her to become angrier. She stared at him defiantly now, all pretense of calm aside.

"You have three quiet," Sherlock explained, "The first quiet is peaceful. When we were driving through the highlands and you were taking in the beauty, and calm. It took you back to a safe place in your young childhood normally forgotten. You allowed your mind to shut down and just feel."

Sherlock moved closer, "The second quiet, Ms. Adler, is your contemplative quiet. You use this time to process. This is the time when you're thinking of what could have been and hope for what may become but with acceptance.

"And the third, Mr. Holmes?" She said rising to her full height in her stiletto heeled shoes, anger flashing now. She had no hopes of intimidating him, but she would at least not have far to look up.

"Do tell." She added crossed her arms looking defiantly into his eyes.

He hesitated for just a moment then took one-step closer. All traces of amusement on his face, replaced with something serious, something new. She could not identify this _something_. Irene could read most people quite easily, but not Sherlock. This left her feeling off balanced yet intrigued.

Damn the man.

"The third Ms. Adler, is your dangerous quiet. The stillness before the storm. The one that men tremble under. The one that causes me to think right now, you'd rather like to get out your gun and shoot me." His hands were in his pockets his head tilted slightly as though he was examining her.

She broke.


	4. Chapter 4 h

**Study of the Heart, Chapter four**

*Spoilers* Post Reichenbach, John is not yet aware that Sherlock is alive .

Thanks everyone for reading and a special thanks to everyone who comments, reviews and make a favorite.

* * *

><p>"Why shouldn't I want to shoot you? It is obvious that you do not care if you live or die. I might as well finish the job. Save you the pain!" Her voice rose, she was fully out of control now. She was animated in her movements with her arms gesturing wildly. All traces of her usual graceful mannerisms gone.<p>

He took an unconscious step back. His hand came rapidly out of his pocket coming half way up in front.

She had thrown him off guard she realized. Sherlock, she could tell, was not surprised by what she said but how she said it. He had anticipated the words but not the passion or level of anger.

No one saw them as creatures of emotion but creatures of the mind, masters of puzzles.

Sherlock solved the puzzle of men's soul and used his gift to solve mysteries, to fight against what he considered evil.

Irene solved the puzzle of men's hearts used her gift to manipulate and cajole.

Some differences, she thought, but they could be worked out.

Even with guns being drawn and pointed at her head, Sherlock never once witness Irene raise her voice much less lose control. Now, he was thrown off balance.

Sherlock, however quickly recovered.

He met her anger and matched it.

"Do you think I enjoy running from country to country, chasing the most dangerous men in the world, worrying about those I… care about being safe?" His voice was low and dangerous as he spit the words out through gritted teeth. His voice betrayed the fact that he too was on the edge of losing control. His mask partially slipped.

His anger increased when he realized how much of himself he had revealed, how much she had made him reveal, She was good.

Damn 'The Woman'.


	5. Chapter 5 h

**Study of the Heart, Chapter five**

*Spoilers* Post Reichenbach, John is not yet aware that Sherlock is alive .

Thanks everyone for reading and a special thanks to everyone who comments, reviews and make a favorite.

* * *

><p>"Your motives are noble, but don't forget Mr. Holmes, that there are people who care for you. Who might just miss you a little if you were… gone. What would they think, what would John think?" they were inches from each other's face now, and locked in mental combat.<p>

He lost all control now his mask fully slipping; his body gestures became animated, matching her own.

"Why do you think I am doing this, any of this; it's to keep them all safe, to keep John safe. A madman has blown up a plane, is planning to blow up more things, kill more people. Am I suppose to walk away, pretend that I am not aware? **Do you think for one second I wanted this, any of this?**" His voice was thick with emotions.

For some reason, seeing him finally vulnerable and emotionally frayed; dispelled most of her anger, but not his.

She put one hand on his heart, it was beating incredibly fast. She looked him in the eyes before she spoke, more gently now. "As I said, your intentions are noble, even correct but…, she put her other hand on his wrist squeezing gently. "Remember… your life matters as well… please."

She had never said please to anyone.

He closed his eyes and surrendered a sighed as he gently leaned on her for the first time, his chin resting on top of her head. She leaned back surrendering into him, and then looked up.

When he opened his eyes and stared at her, his gray blue eyes were swallowed up as his dilated pupils became black orbs. She gasped.


	6. Chapter 6 h

**Study of the Heart, Chapter five**

*Spoilers* Post Reichenbach, John is not yet aware that Sherlock is alive .

Thanks everyone for reading and a special thanks to everyone who comments, reviews and make a favorite.

* * *

><p>His body trembled, whether from the dissipating anger or something else she was unsure.<p>

Sherlock let out a gasp as she shifted slightly molding herself, feeling every part of him as they melted together. Sherlock held her hands in his; his larger hands swallowing her smaller ones. His eyes bore into her. Looking back she saw what few people ever see; she saw his soul, his beautiful, beautiful soul and it broke her.

Sherlock's mouth opened slightly as he openly stared at Irene's lips, suddenly fascinated. He seemed to study them as his breathing became more ragged and irregular. As she subconsciously licked her redden lips, she felt a shudder run through Sherlock's body. It rolled like the wave of an ocean, matching her own.

Sherlock's lips slowly moved toward Irene's as if drawn by a magnet.

Sherlock seemed to aim for her lips; but suddenly… smoothly, his lips gently brushed passed her lips and landed tenderly on her cheek. He left a trail of electrical spark wherever his lips brushed. He leaned into her body as his lips lingered on her cheek, breathing her in, memorizing her.

He would allow himself his one brief moment of weakness.

She could feel him struggling to regain some control. He held both her wrist now. Their eyes both still dark, their breathing both still rapid and ragged.

"What do we call this Mr. Holmes," Irene asked breathlessly, feeling his heart beat and body tremble against hers.

"Dangerous." He whispered just as breathlessly against her ear, with a voice incredibly low and rough.

She breathed in his aroma; faded cologne mixed with his own unique scent.

Only their breathing broke the silence as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Do you trust me?" She asked un-expectantly, suddenly.

He smiled sadly, "Almost, completely," lies were not his way. He did not let go of her hands or look away from her eyes.

She knew what he meant of course, his heart. He did not trust her with it, not yet, maybe never.

She knew he cared for her. First, she had fascinated him, then she moved him when so many have tried and failed.

She now knew what always stopped him, his heart.

She smiled back sadly not saying a word. Just feeling the touch of his hands engulfing her hands and his ragged breath on her cheek.

"Well Ms. Adler I've better be off to bed." His voice was incredibly low and coarse.

"Alone?" she asked her voice matching his in emotion.

"Behave." It was half command, have plea.

Sherlock started to pull away but stopped and turned, one of his hands still wrapped around hers. "Promise me…, " he started, his eyes telling her of everything he wanted to say, was saying now, and would never say, "… Promise me you will be careful and not take any risks, that you will take care of yourself." He looked serious; intense.

She nodded; there were times when words were not necessary.

He stood there for a moment holding one hand; looking at her, into her.

He walked away backward holding on to her hands until the last possible moment and distance alone made it necessary to let go.

His mask fell back in place. He turned around and walked to the spare bedroom. He did not utter another word. He did not look back.

She stood realizing her arm was still outstretched and lowered both it and her eyes. He would be gone in the morning without a word. It was his way. He would of course text her later with his where about, instructions, information.

He would never mention what had just happened.

She would never forget.

She had proven that she was his intellectual match. She would prove both to him and herself that he could trust her with his heart.

As the fireplace light danced across her face, she swore this to herself and for all her faults; she always kept her promises.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading. The second story so feedback, <strong>comments, and reviews are appreciated<strong>, I check back regularly and answer all, thanks :)


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